


Control

by MidgetBanana



Series: Lavebull Things [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Broken Bones, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Object Insertion, One Shot, Rape Roleplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Roleplay, Rope Bondage, Safeword Use, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spanking, Whipping, and a touch of, but still, it's all, with a belt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 14:16:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidgetBanana/pseuds/MidgetBanana
Summary: It takes Bull longer than one beating-with-a-stick to get over fade. When Lavellan makes an offer he couldn't refuse, a certain amount of beating -both sexual and some non-sexual- ensues.





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> This might read abit bland without knowing a little bit about Bull's backstory beforehand (about the "incident" on Seheron, to be precise)

“You called?” Bull came in.

“Yes” Fey nodded, placing the book he was reading at the bedside, _‘Cautionary Tales for the Adventurous’_ , “I believe it’s about time you leave Cullen’s poor recruits alone.”

“Hey! It’s good practice for them! Besides it helps me with my anger problem, you know that.” he added then “Relax, I have it under control.”

“Really? Because I just beat you with a very large stick and you didn’t seem anywhere close to under control.” He’d been in the ring since the dusk, flattening whoever bold enough to stand against him, until Fey came along a few hours back. They sparred. It got _intense_.

“You went for my blind spot.” he shrugged.

“Did you lose your eye _last night_?” the elf asked as he took a few steps to get as close as to coyly mimicking to check his face “Hmm?”

They got deadlocked into a staring contest, if Bull knew what to say, he would’ve.

Elf sighed, “You are a frontline warrior but you were fighting with a little more finesse than a wounded animal. This.. whatever… clearly isn’t working.”

He dragged the chest Bull left under the bed with his feet and kicked it towards him. “Lucky for you I’m more than willing to be on the receiving end of a, for the lack of a better word, ‘beating’.”

“No.” he replied bluntly. The elf didn’t know what he was asking for. Bull would be fine, he would’ve just let loose on some red templars tomorrow, deal with his problems like he always have.

The elf rubbed his temples, defeated. “Let me make this abundantly clear for you,” he explained “I’m capable of defending myself even when you’re incapacitated, but next one who goes for your blind side, or uses your weight against you might not be the man you share a bed with. And my recruits are not around for your entertainment. So if you haven’t worked out your stress until our departure tomorrow, you’ll have to stay here.”

“C’mon don’t be like that.” he rolled his eyes, fighting weird crap together was the most fun he had for a very long time, and he really didn’t like leaving Fey in the care of a warrior that was not him. They worked well together.

“I’m not threatening you, but I can’t have you with us in your current state. Bull,” he continued, gaze softening “I want to help.”

“You know I can’t lose control during our thing.”

“Nor should you, with anyone else. You fear that you’ll go to far,”

“-I _know_ I will.” he cut off. This wasn’t some role-playing they were talking about where he’d _pretend_ to violate a helpless elf. They’d never even gone that far, most they did was a bit of begging without true intent, could maybe be perceived as falling to the grey area of consent as acting goes. They had the word, and it was absolute.

“You fear you’ll lose my trust, or your own trust, I understand.”

“I don’t think you do, Kadan.”

Elf looked away nervously, hesitant yet with practiced composure he persisted; “Look… I’m not gonna pretend to know anything about all these things” he flapped his arms nervously, “But I know what you’ve done for me, submitting to you comes as a second nature so I think… If absolute control is what you need, it’s something I can provide unconditionally.” his demeanor unwavering “Maybe it’s about time _you_ trust me for a change. Trust that however far this goes, I can take you down. I’m far better suited than anyone you can find.”

“Would you?” he raised a brow skeptically.

With a ‘have at it’ attitude, the elf opened his arms tauntingly “Of course, but you can’t know for sure until you try.”

Bull did trust him, but what he was suggesting was crazy. If he really did lose it, how easy it was to just snap the elf’s thin, little neck. Could he really intervene in time then? The mere thought sent chills down his spine. Fey never seen him actually out of it, and to use sex in this way was… perverse.

Perverse. On the other hand, maybe that was exactly what he needed right now, maybe he could truly let go. Nothing else he did seemed to have worked. That and the mental strain he’d been in since their fight at the ring to keep his boner down was very overwhelming.

“Alright, let’s play by your rules.” the elf took a small step back with each one he took as he approached the chest, fear maybe? Or anticipation, he didn’t look up to read his expression. “I’m not gonna ask you to do anything, I won’t care.” he continued as he eyed the contents of the chest. However he decided against it, a game plan was counterproductive to what they were suppose to do. _Deep breaths,_ he though. He could do this. _Trust._

He placed a hand on the elf’s chest, feeling his breathing through. He stopped to gather himself, to not read his heartbeat, or the way his anxious gaze avoiding him. The way he bit his lips, just slightly, waiting, wanting…

None of those mattered. “Last chance to stop this now.” qunari all but plead, before it gets out of hand. Before he does _anything._ The elf, on the other hand, remained unwavering, denying him his cowardice. “Make me.”

At that moment, with that thought, it was like the fragile branch all his control was leaning on snapped inside and with the utmost hysteria all his fury boiled over. He seized the weak cloth beneath his palm that which stood as the only protection the elf had and ripped it off with a single, fierce motion. The elf stumbled with but with one hand he caught a handful of his hair and hauled him towards the wall, trapping him on his tiptoes under Bull’s clutch, raised just high enough to not rip his locks off.

Visibly in pain yet remaining passive, elf locked his gaze on qunari with jaw clenched shut, breathing through his nose, seemingly to appear as docile as possible. It filled Bull with rage, meek like a sheep raised for the slaughter. He’d pull some reaction out of him yet.

He claimed the elf’s mouth with his own, in something so ferocious that could barely be called a kiss, almost daring him to give in. His lips were as soft as ever, challenging him to pry open. He wrapped his free hand around his neck, and sensed the pulse quickening. The elf gasped in surprise when the pressure denied him of air which only worked to provoke Bull further. Further to taste him, further to assault. Having the elf crushed between a stone wall and his body, he was intoxicated by his own strength. He had planned to tease, when he took his bottom lip between his teeth, but in his lunacy he realized he must’ve drew blood. His taste; the mint, the blood, it was exhilarating.

He dismissively let go with a force that shoved the elf on the ground, giving him scarcely enough time to alleviate the fall with his hands. He went back to the chest, searching for nothing in particular but seeing just what he needed, he grabbed the coil of rope and reached out to pull the legs of the elf’s pants who was still struggling to keep a calm posture despite the error of his plan finally sinking in by the distressed look on his face. He reached down to fumble with the straps while he got dragged to the middle of the room in the process, and finally managed to loosen it enough to slide down his legs. Bull threw the cloth away somewhere without a care and hooked one end of the rope over the top of the bedpost, giving it a few tugs to check its sturdiness.

“Bull, wha-” he elf uttered seemingly alarmed.

“What?” Bull asked, “You thought I’d just throw you around a bit and fuck?”

Maybe that was exactly what he thought, or hoped. Wantonly disregarding the further resistance he tied the rope’s free end on a loop around one of his ankles, thigh and up his arms, tightly fixed on his back, and despite the protest coming from him, pulled the other end with little force, causing the feeble figure to haul up dangling from the bedpost upside-down. He struggled in his bindings a little, trying to adjust himself, to no avail. Bull pushed his head to rest on the mattress, there was no kindness in this action, nor care in his touch. He simply enjoyed the view of his arched back.

The elf followed him with his eyes until he tied the rope around the wood and made his way out of his sight. He unbuckled his harness with little finesse, wrapping it around his one hand, and slowly dragged it over the elf’s exposed thighs, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Breathing through gritted teeth, Fey was no doubt readying himself for the assault to come. But Bull would start slow…

“You were planning about this, right? Since noon?” he asked, placing the leather wrapped hand to caress one of his cheeks. The initial touch surprised the elf, expecting pain, he flinched. “Because this…” he continued as he grazed over elf’s dry entrance with his thumb “doesn’t look ready at all.”

His finger insistently pressing in, “Is that what you want? To be fucked dry?” he carried on with rhetorics.

“N-no…” the elf mumbled but his breath cut short with the hand qunari wrapped around his throat to heave him up “What? Can’t hear you!” he mocked with a devilish grin.

“I…” he tried to collect his thought, averting Bull’s gaze he stammered breathlessly “I’m sorry- I didn’t know what you’d want… I- I didn’t want to impose.”

“Hah! You wanna take orders outside the bed too now? Can’t you even grab your staff when it’s not commanded?” he sneered.

The elf remained motionless, huffing in small breaths. Bull didn’t know what exactly he was angry at, he expected someone who demanded his trust to show maybe the modicum of understanding of what it would mean… He raised the hand holding the leather up and brought it down with a crack right above the elf’s thighs, putting as much force behind it as the position allowed him. Noise of air cracking around it felt so distant, neither the creaking of the wood above them nor the elf uttering a yelp in his grasp, maybe another apology, reached him the exact second it happened. His veins were filled with a battle rush.

He snapped the leather again “Is this even just a game to you?” Crack! “Or do you-” Crack! “- really crave to be dominated?” Crack!

Elf’s silence, how Bull could feel his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed under his palm, how he clenched his jaw to trap his gasps every time his body jerked in pain was maddening. Pain was a reward for him, he never disobeyed before, why should Bull expect him to do so now. Next time he brought down the leather it landed on the tender skin between his cheeks, leaving a red strip at its wake.

The bedpost screeched with the body it’s holding as the elf jolt in his bindings. He wailed in agony “Yes! Yes!”

With the same apathetic smirk he brought the leather down three more times on the exact same place as he spoke “You’d rather someone else ran the show wouldn’t you, ordered you around...”

“Yes!” he screamed louder “I’m sorry…”

“Then you wouldn’t have to live with the hard decisions,” another crack, “I’m sorry” he kept repeating miserably.

“Who lives,” the next one broke the skin, blood bubbling between his cheeks “and who dies.”

“’M sorry…” the elf trailed off, almost lost his control, almost at the edge… almost, but not quite.

Qunari dropped the leather and grabbed a fistful of his hair, bending his back painfully upwards. And just with that, the Qun would have taken over the most powerful organization in southern Thedas, just with that, his mission would’ve been over, he should’ve been ecstatic. However the boiling feeling under his skin was everything but, it was rage, it was pity. “Stop apologizing!” he snapped, flunging the back of his hand right across his face. The hair slid down from his palm and his head landed back on the mattress with a loud thud.

A tingling pain started pulsing through the skin of his hand where it connected with the elf’s cheek, now bright red.

“Look at me.” he said, a fleeting concern leaked in his voice for a split second, but it was gone as soon as it came “Look at me!”

Under his furrowed brows, the elfs gaze was fixed afar, away from him, away from this room. He was biting his lips as hard as he can, trying to hold back his sobs but the wetness covering his cheeks betrayed him.

This time Bull grabbed the abused flest of his ass and squeezed. Elf screamed. Not an excited nor a surprised one, this was one full of agony.

Seeing how stubborn Fey was, he gave the skin a slap before hurling himself away from the trembling body to reach back for the chest. He grabbed a rod, kind of long for an elf’s body but not too thick, about as wide as two of his fingers. Still could easily hurt unprepared.

“If that’s how you’re gonna be…” he teased and made his way back behind him, between his bound legs. Elf couldn’t’ve seen what he took, his face was buried in the sheets still sobbing softly, still not looking at him. He spread his cheeks, revealing the painfully swollen, red entrance underneath, and earning himself a hoarse whimper from the elf who by now had probably figured out what’s about to come. He pressed the rod’s tip only slightly but even that must’ve been a torture over a beaten skin. “C’mon,” he said “you’re better than this, I haven’t even done anything yet.” he shrugged.

This brought up a new opportunity, he could finally find out his limit. He smacked the abused area with the rod before aligning it on top of his hole and pushing it down as hard as he could, the skin around stretched inside to fight the intrusion and it only went in a couple of inches. He let out a frustrated groan and pulled it out with force. He spit on the hole that was now having an unhealthy shade of burning red around it, and pressed the rod back in. It was a struggle but not for a man of Bull’s size. Fey didn’t know this rod yet, it was going to be a gift. Instead now he was brutally getting breached with it.

Bull patience was running thin and all he accomplished was making him cry a little, that wouldn’t do. He untied the rope at the bedpost and let his body fell back on sheets. He flipped the elf on his back harshly to finally meet his eyes, not giving a care to his still bound arms or the rod up his ass.

His hair was a sweaty mess, sticking on his forehead and cheeks, hiding half of the ugly purple mark that was covering the skin under his eye through his wounded lips. His eyes were swollen, the side that took the blow more than the other and the impact must’ve hit his nose too, the blood smeared over his lips and down his chin. The shifting of ropes around his body revealed burns here and there. But more than everything the way his eyes meet Bull’s when he reached back for the rod that stood his hand. He was looking for hurt or betrayed, fearful, even angry instead he was met with… _pity._ No, concern. He couldn’t tell, he didn’t want to.

“Feeling compliant now?” he asked.

“I’m yours...” the elf replied with a misplaced compassion “you can do whatever you want.”

A part of him wanted the elf to come undone quickly, just so he’s say the word and Bull could stop. Another part of him was furious with him for blurring his lines, making him do this, enjoy this. That part guide his hand between his legs and onto the rod, pulling it completely out and pushing it all the way in again. And that part refused to look down because he know he would see it covered with the blood that made it easier to slide back in. Elf flinched beneath him, tugging at his bindings trying to get away from the intrusion but still kept his torturous gaze locked on him. “Now was that so hard?” he sneered, although he tried to keep his voice leved. He gave it a few more thrusts before his fingers found the rune carved under it. He tapped at it. Nothing happened at first, the carving lit up with a purple glow that spread across its base and disappeared where it was buried inside the elf. Only after it dimmed down and lit up again the elf’s entire body jerked with pain. His head rolled back and a vicious scream tore from his lungs. He started frantically thrashing in his bindings.

It was a simple storm rune, emitting a steady current and, at least when bull turned it on to to see when he first bought it, making it bounce on the floor. Now it was vibrating and burning up the inside of Fey’s abused body. Must’ve been excruciating.

And exciting, apparently. With the stimulation the elf’s dick started twitching. From there on all it took was a few strokes for it to swell completely. It was obvious from the elf’s horrified expression that he wasn’t even feeling the pleasure his body was succumbing to.

Bull, seemingly uninterested at finishing the job, rose from the mattress, leaving the elf curled up in a ball shaking and wailing. He browsed through the chests contents again. He returned with a pair of clamps and a blindfold, didn’t wanna catch the pity in his eyes again.

He tugged the elf back and felt the rod’s current tingling on his fingers where their skin met. An odd toy, he thought. Pulling his head back he covered his eyes with the blindfold and gave his exposed neck a bite before moving down to his nipples, current prickled his tongue. He took the tip between his teeth and teased it to hardness. He did the same to the other, probably bit harder than he usually do but looking at how distracted the elf was, still struggling helplessly, it was likely he didn’t even notice. He did notice though when he secured the clamps on them and pulled at the chain they connect to, earning himself a moan. He moved on to the end of the bed, basking on the wreck that he made.

His eyes caught the book Fey was reading earlier, he had time, he could indulge.

Slowly, while he was shuffling through _Cautionary Tales for the Adventurous,_ the elf’s screams died down to sobs, and his sobs to shallow huffs. He came, twice, from as far as Bull could tell, maybe even the elf didn’t realize.He’d occasionally tug on the rod slightly, just to make him flinch but other than that he didn’t even touch him.

After about half an hour he put the book down and poured himself a glass of water. He didn’t know why but ever since this all began he didn’t get aroused even slightly. His cock decided to take a convenient break after torturing him all afternoon apparently. He walked towards where elf’s head lay debauched. “You thirsty?” he asked, tapping on his blindfold.

All the elf managed to do was to moan desperately, neither a yes nor a no. Still, he brought the pitcher over elf’s head in a gross display of cruelty and slowly poured it down to his face. He tried to jerk his head away and cough out the bit that got on his lungs but his motions were minimal at best.

He traced his hand along the elf’s torso, down his overstimulated dick and grabbed the rod and the elf’s breathing picked up the pace. He tugged it once to see the blood dried around it making it impossible to slide out easily. He wrapped his hand around his thigh to hold it in place and gave it another tug, harder this time. Elf hitched a breath but the rod didn’t give in. “Oh, for fucks sake.” he sighed, frustrated and yanked it out violently by putting his back into it. The elf jerked in pain but his long dried throat only managed a hoarse groan. He pressed at the rune again and threw it away. Replaced the emptiness with his fingers and started playing with the violated skin inside. When it wasn’t enough, wrapped a hand over his drained erection. He worked him gradually, in a punishing pace that the elf was writhing in anguish all over again. It took awhile but in the end there was one way this would end, he snapped the clamps off by the chain with a swift motion and the elf spend himself for the third time that night on Bull’s hand.

Still, the night was young.

Elf made no comments while he untied the his legs and arms and stretched them out towards the corners, where he secured them on their respective sides. It was almost like playing with a ragdoll but at least he could tell he was lucid somewhat.

“Are you done yet?”

“Whenever you are.” he breathed.

He dismissively pushed his head to the side with the back of his hand “Look at you,” he said “drained but still trying to catch up.”

“Whatever you want…” the elf repeated submissively.

He stressed each word sarcastically “ _Whatever I want._ ”

“Fight me, then.” he said finally.

“What?”

“Fight me, resist.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” the elf mumbled.

“Alright.” he got up seemingly irritated. “What’s the point of a prize if not earned? What good are you? I can just be beating up a sack.”

They had red flags, just two so far, but they were forbidden territory. If Bull was thinking at all, if he wasn’t boiling with the anger of a little child denied his toy, he would sooner chop off the remaining of his fingers that to do what he did. But this road he was walking down, he walked down before, and when he took the next step he would only tumble downhill.

He grabbed the candle on the bedside, it wasn’t made for plays, but the elf could heal, right? Watching with a bizarre fascination how the melted wax was pooling on his hand, it felt inevitable that he had to, you can’t pull back your sword mid swing afterall.

He held it close enough to the elf’s abdomen to emit heat. Elf didn’t understand, at first, the stinking burn of the drops covering his skin. But Bull got closer and closer…

“What are you doing?”

“Whatever I want.” he answered smugly.

“Please-” he rushed as another drop dripped on the skin right above his dick “Please don’t!” he frantically yanked his bindings.

His pleas fell to deaf ears and qunari continued to cover more and more skin with hot wax.

“Stop! Bull-Bull please stop I can’t” he kept stuttering.

Bull grabbed the discarded remains of the shirt hanging by the bedpost and stuffed it in the elf’s mouth uncaringly.

“Enough.”

He kept on, disregarding the elf hyperventilating, he covered around his bruised nipples and down his abused thighs. Every inch he could find. The body beneath him tensed and screamed, hurting itself to get away, but he kept on.

Until in a flash he felt a throb in his head. He opened his eyes to find himself at the other side of the room. The elf, now free from most of his bindings, was crawling down the bed. He closed the distance and threw himself on top of the mattress to catch him by the ankle and drag him back “Stop, Bull, let go!” he cried. But maybe the qunari was somewhere else now, words didn’t mean anything. He could register elf’s mouth yapping and his legs kicking to free themselves but it meant nothing.

A brief moment the elf managed to yank one of his legs free, he got away by kicking qunari’s nose in, causing blood to spur on his face, and he cornered himself to a wall. Bull was right behind, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched shut he hurled a punch at him. Fey made an attempt to block his face with his arms but it wasn’t enough. He got swung with the punch but Bull caught him mid-air and hurled him face first back to the wall, pinning his arms behind him. “Stop.” he said and Bull bent one of his arm up in an arms lock.

He fumbled with his belt to get his dick out, he could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He stroked himself frantically but nothing, his dick remained as soft as the day he was born. Defeated, he rearranged his pants but in the process allowed the elf just enough space to zap him back to the bed. He hit the bedpost and tumbled down. An animal like snarled escaped his mouth and he launched like a predator.

Only, he couldn’t. He was frozen where he stood as he got crashed by the air around him. Unable to move.

Fey was on the floor, the arm Bull’s fist connected with hanging useless by his side. Little bubbles of red wounds covered his body and blood was gushing from his nose, mouth and eyebrow where his head was slammed. He had his functioning arm raised nonchalantly, keeping the spell that trapped Bull. He was wheezing possibly from a broken rib but he had the same excruciating look on his eyes as he did earlier.

“Katoh.” he said calmly, as if he was merely tasting the word on his tongue, with that the cage holding Bull in crushed him down to his knees.

Elf slowly rose, limping on his feet and hissing with every step, but he dragged himself to stand above him. His hands slowly moved to cup Bull’s face, so gently that it burned. “It’s okay.” he said and Bull realized he’d wrapped his arms around the elf, clutching at him like he was gonna fall off. “It’s okay.” he said again and Bull buried his head to his chest. “Sleep now.”

And he obeyed.

 

* * *

 

 

When he came to, he could faintly recall the events of last night. There’d been the weight of Fey next to him on the bed and the smell of elfroot. When he’d tried to open his eyes a little his blurred vision had caught a sitting figure dimly highlighted by the moonlight, gently rubbing what’s most likely poultice on his skin. Somewhere back on his mind he had thought he should be doing that, but the thought had disappeared as quickly as it came and he’d fell into a slumber again.

Now with the sun directly glaring on him, he felt somewhat hungover. Sun was too hot and the birds were chirping too loudly. His body was too heavy, mattress under him too soft. There was a dull ache on his left leg that he couldn’t accurately place and some dried blood clogging his nose. As he raised himself slowly, the guilt from yesterday gradually started to wash over him.

He noticed slowly the scenery laid before him to great dismay. Taking it in even just a little, he realized the place was a fucking war zone. They fought a little, maybe broke some trinkets -and bones- here and there but this was nowhere close to what he anticipated. The shelf on the far side of the room that he got knocked to was lying face down on the floor, king the drapes trapped under its weight with it. Likely that’s what cracked the window as well. Following the trail of mess to the bedposts which were… completely gone. Two on the foot side had fully broken and the head side ones torn from the tension. On top of all this there was a _dent_ on the wooden floor right next to where he was sitting, splinters sticking out were covered in dried blood that pooled around that area and smeared all over the place from the stone wall before him to the sheets under his hands. This was much more drastic than he remembered. He couldn’t even recall wrecking the shelf or the bed much less the hole and the amount of blood.

He rose, careful where he was stepping between splinters and glass shards and made his way to the corner he trapped the elf. It wasn’t as much as the one next to the bed but there was a significantly more blood than he remembered here as well. Somewhere, sometime, he had lost control completely. His memory was hazy and focused on certain place and time, certain actions, he couldn’t relive anything but. He gave in to blood rage once again, and in his carelessness found himself in this position he swore never to be in again. He should never have agreed to this madness, he shouldn’t’ve let Fey… _Oh shit, Fey!_

The elf was no trace of the elf, there were some bandages, bloody cloth, health poultices and mixing bowl lying on the bedside table but they were already dried out, at least a couple of hours old.

He wasn’t sure if he should wait or leave. He didn’t want him to come back to find the bed empty but then he didn’t want to impose if he preferred to be alone. Bull wouldn’t blame him if he did.

After a couple of minutes contemplating it turned out that he answer came to him.

He stilled as the creak of the door accompanied by gradual footsteps ascending from

stairs reached him. It’s safe that say the elf had seen better days, half if his face -sunken and swollen in places- was a greenish purple and as well as the bruises around his neck. His arm was bandaged up to his shoulder and suspended round his neck in a sling. There were scratches here and there that likely weren’t deemed important enough to get tended properly, or at all. He was carrying a steaming bucket with his able side and stopped dead on his tracks when he noticed the qunari.

“You’re awake.” his voice cracking and hoarse, sounded painful to talk.

Bull didn’t dare to look up, he didn’t want to seem self-loathing “I’m awake.”

“I brought warm water if you wanna… for your face.”

He nodded, waiting for a sign to evaluate what to do, but Fey looked more lost than him. Acting as if it's his first time in a stranger’s quarters. “Are you...” he started, trying to keep his voice levelled “alright?”

“Oh this?” he gestured to the bandages “It’s mostly healed, I just wanted to be safe.”

“And that?” Bull asked gesturing to the whole of him.

“I have only so much mana, Bull. I left the least severe to last, it only looks bad.” he shrugged. “How’s your leg?”

“My what?”

“Your leg?”

Bull looked down confused, which leg? What leg?

“It’s… fine?”

“Thank the creators, I thought you may have ruptured a muscle, can you stand on it?”

“I can…” he cut himself short “Wait-wait hold up what’s up with my leg?”

Fey looked fidgety, and a bit ashamed?

“You punctured it on the bed post, it’s my fault, I didn’t realize it was broken when I knocked you on it.” he continued “You don’t remember?”

“I remember flying, I don’t remember impaling.” he waved at the marks on the wall “I don’t remember those either, looks like I cracked your skull or something?”

“Clearly not.” he smiled and took a seat next to him “I must apologize, I know we talked about it and I know you look the other way during combat but… I used blood magic.”

“You had to resort to blood magic...” Bull hid his face in his hands, trying to grasp the situation.

“Had to? No. Resorted to? Yes, unfortunately.” Fey was playing down the severity of their situation, ignoring the issue was one thing but he was downright acting proud. Could it be that he didn’t want to worry him? That would be something he’d do. Yesterday Bull had no intention to stop, from the very beginning, no matter what happens. He couldn’t, he knew himself. And he had the feeling Fey knew that too. It may have started with consent but it definitely didn’t end with one. He couldn’t shake the gravity of the fact that in the end he took advantage of Fey’s concern for his well-being, violated their verbal contact, and worst of all, violated him.

“This is a fucking mess, Kadan. We can’t do this again.”

“Of course.”

“No, we can’t do _this_ anymore.”

“Oh.”

There was a devastating silence until Bull decided to give him some space and make his escape. He was almost to the stairs when he heard the elf speaking quietly.

“I understand, I’m sorry.”

“No it’s not- This is not about blood magic, you had to stop me somehow.”

Elf’s weary gaze met his “I only used the spell to sustain you for a second, yes, but you were about to step on your wounded leg I didn’t want you to fall over. I would never use full body control… on anyone… you know that.”

Taking Bull’s confusion as the answer enough he carried on, defeated “I should never have let you go that far, I realize that, but I had to keep the word for when you were at your limit.”

His frustration and irritation seeped into his voice “Little good it does if you had to pin me to the fucking ground anyways. I knew -I fucking knew this would happen. I-” The elf straightened up and slowly shook his head, every word from his mouth came with a painful calmness and clarity “Vhenan… By the time I said it, the effect of my magic had already worn off.”

Bull froze, turning what the elf said in his head

“What I did was wrong, it was risky and it was a gamble I played with somebody else's feelings... Someone who I care deeply about. But you give yourself too little credit.” he continued, his battered voice almost a whisper now “If nothing else, maybe now you might see you’re not a catastrophe waiting to happen. I held my end of the bargain, and you held yours. I said the word and y-”

The realization sunk on him “I stopped.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to play with the subject of safewords and challenge myself to write the sub using the safeword for the dom, I know I probably blurred the lines more than I intended but here we are now, thanks for reading and as always comments and kudos are most welcome ^^


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